


A Good Deal

by TheEnchantedQuill



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Gen, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Starvation, Unresolved, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:41:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24729874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEnchantedQuill/pseuds/TheEnchantedQuill
Summary: Optimus finds that Ratchet has been hiding things from him.
Relationships: Optimus Prime & Ratchet, Optimus Prime/Ratchet
Comments: 8
Kudos: 98





	A Good Deal

**Author's Note:**

> This is made in the context where Ratchet starves himself of energon so there would be enough for the others.

Ratchet could feel prying eyes watching him, observing him as he worked. Behind him, the medbay door was open, a large form filling the doorway, silently spying from a distance. Ratchet ignored his leader’s presence, focusing his tremoring servos to the keyboard, tip-tapping away tiredly. Under the watchful gaze, he straightened up, forcing his weak frame into proper posture, despite how it felt heavy and stiff. He massaged his knuckles for a moment, hoping to keep his servos from shaking; it was a shame that he couldn’t do the same for his knees. His joints screamed at him as he stood up straight, feigning energy and stability, in a desperate attempt to convince those watching optics that he was fine. He wasn’t so lucky. 

Heavy footfalls announced Optimus’ approach, and Ratchet squeezed his optics shut, dreading the talk he was about to receive. “I hope you don’t plan on distracting me,” the medic warned. His optics sprang open at the sharp brush of Optimus’ field against his; Optimus was  _ angry. _ Ratchet was admittedly afraid to turn and face him, and meet the look of pure frustration on his leader’s face. 

Optimus set a full energon cube on the desk beside the keyboard, optics whirling narrower as Ratchet spared it a glance. “You lied to me,” the Prime said, his voice tight and firm. 

“Optimus-”

“Do not speak.” The medic promptly shut his mouth. “You swore to me that you had been taking your energon rations. You swore to me that you wouldn’t do this anymore.” Optimus furiously pointed at the cube, his voice low and rumbling like thunder. “Ratchet, you blatantly lied to me about your energon consumption, after I personally ensured you were receiving rations.” 

Ratchet spared the cube another look, his tanks dropping anxiously. He’d been caught. Ever since the dreadful synthen incident, Optimus had taken to bringing him rations, personally confirming that his medic had fueled. At first, Ratchet had begrudgingly taken the energon, swallowing his guilt and anxiety to satisfy his leader. And then, slowly, he began consuming less and less of it, until he would hide the cube in a drawer and return it back to the supply closet later, having not consumed any of it. The cube before him was from that morning; Optimus had obviously found it in it’s hiding place under the monitor. 

It simply wasn’t right for him to be taking energon away from the hard working warriors on their team. He didn’t deserve his rations. 

Optimus took the guilty look on his face as confirmation. “After all this time, you can’t be honest with me.” He frowned. “I believed that I could always trust you to never lie to me.” 

Ratchet’s field flared at the implications, wincing in hurt. “I wouldn’t,” he sputtered.

“You led me to believe that these past weeks, you had been improving, that you were  _ trying  _ to feel worthy, you convinced me that you had made progress. Instead, you were deceiving me, giving me false hope, leading me on while your condition depreciated.” Optimus’ voice rose, his field whipping furiously. “Due to your dishonesty, I have been unaware of the potential threats to my team. How will Team Prime fare without a medic? If you cannot perform, lives could be in danger. This team’s backbone is  _ you,  _ Ratchet, but no matter what I do in order to convince you of that, you still refuse to see your self worth!” Optimus had to stop and look away, collecting himself with a long, slow breath. 

“I won’t do it again,” Ratchet offered weakly. 

“I cannot trust your word anymore.” The Prime seethed. In one movement, he had taken Ratchet’s wrist in his servo, holding it carefully but tightly. “Show me your energon levels.” He ordered.

The medic’s optics widened, and he shook his helm. “Optimus, please, I won’t do it anymore.”

“Show me your energon levels.” Optimus repeated, louder. Ratchet flinched, before averting his optics, the paneling on his arm retracting to show his small screen. Displayed before Optimus were the energon levels of every member of the team. Shame was a heavy cloud in Ratchet’s field, horrified that his leader was seeing with his own optics how dangerously low on energon he was. A noise of frustration escaped Optimus. 

“I’m sorry. . .” Ratchet whispered, afraid to look at him. He was utterly ashamed. 

Optimus took his chin in his servo, and pulled their gazes to meet. It was uncomfortable and awkward; Optimus never touched his teammates like this. Ratchet inwardly cringed as his leader observed his optics, taking note of how faded and weak they were. “You hid this from me,” he murmured. 

Ratchet pulled his helm away, stepping back. “You’ve made your point.” He huffed, embarrassed. “Optimus, I’m sorry. I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

“I want you to stop starving yourself. I want you to understand how much you mean to me, to this team.” Optimus pointed to the empty bar that displayed Ratchet’s energon level. “This is unacceptable. You are going to kill yourself if you continue this, Ratchet." He shook his helm. "You cannot do this anymore." 

"Optimus, I don't want to be useless!" Ratchet tore his wrist away from his leader, the screen disappearing behind his sliding plating. "I'm so sick of wasting energon, of being a deadweight!" As his voice raised, his body became louder, and he began furiously gesturing. "You can't tell me I'm worthy of our resources when our teammates risk their lives daily! I'm not going to fall for another one of your self worth lectures, Optimus, I'm doing this for you, for the team! I  _ won't  _ hold us back!" 

"Ratchet, you are far from useless," Optimus recoiled slightly, taken back at the outburst. "Every word I have said about you is true, I would not lie to you."

"You're wrong about me!"

The Prime's field lashed violently in hurt. "I have known you for a millenia, I know your worth, I see what you don't in yourself. I can assure you that I am correct in what I believe." He reached out to rest a servo on his medic's shoulder, which was shrugged off immediately. "But I cannot fathom the fact that you lied to me. Ratchet, I trusted you."

"What, to not be like  _ him _ ?" Ratchet's optics flashed like an animal's, and he sent a look of fury. "To accept your trust and give you honesty in return, because that's worked  _ so well  _ for you in the past?" 

Optimus' servos tightened into fists, his frame going rigid, tight with anger. He forced his voice low and calm, though the urge to shout was pestering and pestering. "I am here because I care about you," he forced out. "There is no need to lash out at me." 

Ratchet scoffed. "I don't understand why you won't just leave me be. I don't need to be babysat, Prime." 

"Ratchet, you will be required to consume one cube- at the very least- every day. You will be watched until you have finished. You will not argue. This will be continued until you have earned my trust again. Do you understand?" Optimus buried his feelings deep in his chest and searched Ratchet's optics. 

"Frag off." The medic spat, turning away from him to angrily type on the keyboard. 

Optimus took his shoulder and pulled him back, raising his voice a bit higher. " _ Ratchet.  _ Do you understand?" 

"I'm not a sparkling, Optimus! I don't want your special treatment!" Ratchet's field formed a thick wall of frustration and exhaustion around him. His knees were shaking badly, and he had to lean against the desk to keep them from buckling. He certainly looked like he needed special treatment. 

Optimus thought for a moment, watching him. "Very well. We will make a different agreement." He picked up the energon cube, holding it out to his medic. "From now on, I will not refuel until you have."

Ratchet's optics widened. "No, you need energon, your amount of activity needs an adequate amount of fuel-"

"I will have the adequate amount of fuel, so long as you have as well." The Prime felt some of his anger subside, satisfied with his solution. He had caught Ratchet. 

"Optimus, this isn't fair," the medic said desperately. "You need to be healthy, you're more important than I am."

"That is my final decision. I hope that this will compel you to take better care of yourself." Optimus put the cube of energon in his medic's servo. "You will finish this tonight. Tomorrow, our fueling schedules will align." 

He ignored the noises of frustration and distress as he strode to the door, pausing before leaving, to glimpse his medic one more time. Ratchet was seated on a work bench, his helm in his servos, shoulders trembling. A pang went through Optimus' spark, and he made to comfort his friend, his heart pulling him to the medic. But he turned back to the door, and left, venting softly. 

All night, he regretted not returning to the doctor's side. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Saddddddddd


End file.
